December 22, 2019 / 4.2 miles / 33 degrees
Choices/ TESS GALLAGHER
I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I look up,
saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
the uppermost branches.
I don’t cut that one.
I don’t cut the others either.
Suddenly, in every tree,
an unseen nest
where a mountain
would be.
Looking back at this entry, I was surprised to see this poem posted here, having just seen it posted on my twitter feed this morning. Same poem, same day, 3 years apart. I should also mention that I just reread this poem a few days ago and added it to possible poems for the class I’m teaching in the winter. Is Tess Gallagher trying to tell me something?
As part of the tweet mention of it today, the poetry person posted: “Tess Gallagher on really seeing.”
December 22, 2020 / 3.15 miles / 25 degrees
Want to make note of this experiment I tried. I think I might want to try it again in the upcoming year. Reading about it reminded me that this log, and the practice of keeping it, has many purpose:
- to document my runs
- to give attention to the outside world, especially the gorge
- to develop an archive of images and experiences for my writing
- to experiment with writing and the creative process and noticing and remembering
- to work through (untangle knots) in a poem or essay I’m working on
- to give me a reason to get outside and move more (because I want to write about it/add to this log)
- to work on my craft — in many ways, including by experimenting with reciting poems while I”m moving, studying them and their word choices, rhythms, etc
- to track the seasons and the subtle changes in the world
- to explore the connections between inner and outer, self and world, body and mind
Tried a (slightly) new experiment today. Memorized a poem. Recorded myself reciting it from memory before heading out for my run. Recited it all through my run. Then, recorded it again on my walk home. I wondered what the difference would be? Would I know the poem better after my run? In the first attempt: no. I knew it better before, but I think that had more to do with being tired at the end of my run. The poem I memorized (or re-memorized) was: Babel/ Kimberly Johnson